The Laws of Falling
by KittyKatZorse
Summary: Sequel to The Laws of Familiarity and Laws of Family.Sherlock/OC Rebecca.Rebecca is looking after hers and Sherlock's baby alone, but when Sherlock makes a re-appearance does that mean he will be sticking around, or will he 'fall' at the finish line?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys Sherlock and Rebecca are back in this sequel to Laws of Familiarity and Laws of Friendship, I'm sure you're all familiar with them but if you aren't they can be found on my page so it's advisable to give them a quick look first before you start reading this.**

**I hope you all enjoyed last night's episode. I sure did! And I hope you enjoy this story too. Here's just a small (perhaps rather boring) chapter to get you started.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>A tear rolled down Rebecca's cheek.<p>

He was dead…and there was nothing she could do.

Nothing she could do to stop the hurt, the pain, the loss.

She stared at the body lying on the floor before her.

Her tiny baby panted in her arms, before scrunching up her face and starting to wail.

"It's okay," muttered Rebecca, clutching the child closer to her bosom. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

But she had to admit that she too wanted to cry.

The figure before her….they had been there for her….for so many years and now….she had to say goodbye.

"I've rung the vet," said John. "They can come pick him up. They said your pet insurance covers it."

Rebecca gave a nod before staring down once again at Toby's tiny body, lying on the cold kitchen floor.

She had moved out of 221b almost a week ago, and the ten-year old basset hound hadn't taken the move too well. His tiny body eventually giving up on him in the night. Rebecca had found him this morning whilst heading into the kitchen on an early-morning feed.

Rebecca gave another sniff.

She had of course rung John, not really knowing what else to do. She hadn't seen or heard from Sherlock after coming out of hospital just over two weeks ago.

John and Sarah had stayed with her in 221b until she found a new flat, just off Edgware road. Sherlock had never returned to Baker Street. Rebecca and the two doctors had taken shifts to look after baby Jennifer when they all lived under one roof, but now Rebecca was on her own. Exhausted and strained.

"Thanks John," she gulped, as she rocked her little girl in her arms.

The blonde doctor paused before stepping towards her. "I can stay, if you want me to? At least until the vet comes."

"No, its fine John, really," said Rebecca wearily. "I've got to give Jennifer her feed…and I've got a load of washing to be getting on with, not to mention paperwork…"

"Sarah and I could come over this evening. We'll give you a hand," said John, placing a gentle hand to her shoulder.

"No," she said a little heatedly. "I'm fine. I can handle it. Now…go….you're going to be late for work."

John sighed. "Alright," he said giving her shoulder a squeeze then bending down to peck little Jennifer on the forehead. "But you know we're only a phone call away."

Rebecca nodded, hoisting her baby further up into her arms, as John left via the front door, closing it quietly behind him.

Rebecca stared after him for a moment before grasping up Toby's blanket from his basket and placing it quietly over his cold form.

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><p>"How was she?" said Sarah placing a large mug of tea down onto John's desk.<p>

John gave a sigh and shook his head.

"I don't know, she says she's coping but I think Toby dying is just going to stress her out even more. I don't think she's sleeping well."

Sarah stared glumly down to the floor, it was a long moment before she spoke.

"Have you tried ringing him?" she asked biting her lip.

John scowled. "I've rung…left messages…text him about a million times…but that bloody IDIOT isn't answering."

"You don't think he's in trouble do you?" Sarah asked fretfully as John shrugged.

"He's Sherlock bloody Holmes. Of course he's in trouble…"

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><p>Rebecca rubbed her tired face.<p>

It was late afternoon and Rebecca stood in the kitchen doing the last of the washing up and waiting for her most recent load of laundry to finish spinning in the machine. All the while, a huge stack of paperwork lay sprawled across her messy kitchen table alongside a pile of unpacked boxes and a magnitude of bottles, pumps, sterilisers and various other baby stuff.

Rebecca hadn't even had time to unpack much, let alone have any time for herself over the past few days. When she hadn't been looking after Jennifer she had been running around doing chores until her daughter woke up again in time for her next feed.

She ached all over, and she could barely keep her eyes open, but she knew she couldn't stop. Things needed to be done and she couldn't rely on John and Sarah forever.

Rebecca had her hands deep in soapy water when the washing machine let out a loud BEEP.

Jumping in fright, Rebecca's hand slipped and she cut her finger on a bread knife immersed deep within the suds, letting out a yelp she twisted the tap allowing the cold water to run across her bloody hand. Gazing around she realized that she had no idea where her first aid kit was. Probably buried deep within the boxes that were piled high in the corner.

She winced, waiting for the pain to subside, before wrapping her hand carefully in a clean towel.

The washing machine emitted another loud beep, as Rebecca heard Jennifer gurgle from the next room.

Another beep as she tugged a cardboard box to her and rooted around inside. Finding just a big pile of clothes, she pushed it aside as she reached for another box.

Another bleep as Jennifer gave a wail, before beginning to cry loudly.

"Alright, alright Mummy will be there in a second," said Rebecca, rummaging through another box to no avail.

The machine bleeped once more and giving a groan, Rebecca reached over and tugged open the circular door on the front. As she did so a large amount of water spilled out and flooded her shoes.

Little red letters appeared suddenly at the top of the machine.

'BLOCKAGE.'

The young lawyer groaned and in the next room Jennifer began to wail louder and louder.

"Ok sweetie, I'm coming," said Rebecca as she stuck her free hand into the drum of the washing machine and gave a tug at the material that was wedged at the back.

Jennifer began to scream, as the machine beeped loudly into Rebecca's ear and her cut finger stung with pain.

She gave a pull and the material un-snagged from the machine and another pool of water came flooding out all over her tiled kitchen floor. She lifted the offending garment to her face and groaned to find that it was her favourite dress, now torn to shreds.

She let out a moan and got to her feet and, being careful not to slip on the water, she unplugged the machine from the wall. She would deal with this mess later, but for now Jennifer needed her...

..wait…

Rebecca listened but no sound came from the next room…

Her eyes widened as she ran from the kitchen, tea towel still wrapped around her hand.

Jennifer wouldn't just stop crying of her own accord…then why was there no sound coming for the living room where her crib now lay?

Something must be wrong….

Rebecca skidded around the corner, stopped in the doorway and gaped at the sight that met her eyes.

"Sherlock?"

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry about the all of the spelling/grammar mistakes in the last chapter. Hopefully all sorted now (I'm terrible with that sort of thing sorry.)**

**Anyway I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who alerted and favourited and a special thanks to V., Jinx 456, riddle-tom12, TheDoctorsMistress, Mina Werewolf, LillianiKay2011, Becky Auteur, jeffhardyluvsme, Bookwormiie, Darkly Dreaming, CharmedGirl92, Gwilwillith, Google Eleanor, Ladey Jezzabella, cutieepiee1, WinterSky101, 'anon', Vilentiel & mstef for reviewing.**

**Hope this chapter is okay?**

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><p>"Sherlock?" said Rebecca, taking a sudden step back at the sight before her.<p>

There was the dark-haired detective, holding baby Jennifer in his arms and staring down at her with awe. The tiny baby gurgled in his grasp and Sherlock gave a crooked smile, before glancing up and noticing the blonde lawyer in the doorway.

"She was crying, I just thought-"

"Yeah, I was dealing with it Sherlock," said Rebecca coldly, moving forward and making to take the child carefully from his arms.

His eyes suddenly flashed down towards her injured hand.

"You had better deal with that before touching Jennifer," said Sherlock in a firm voice.

Rebecca paused, looking sheepish, before taking a step back and gazing up into Sherlock's eyes.

"Where have you been?" she asked, but the detective glanced away, moving around the room.

"How are the neighbors?" he asked peering out of the window, out onto the darkening street. "I'm assuming they're quiet. Too much noise can't be good for the baby."

"They're fine," said Rebecca frowning. "It's just a young couple…but I asked you a question Sherlock."

She moved around to stand in front of him and a certain electricity seemed to crackle between them.

"You look tired," said Sherlock after a minute staring hard at her face. . "You should get some rest."

"Rest?" said Rebecca loudly, causing Jennifer to stir. "How can I rest Sherlock? I've got a baby to deal with, not to mention keeping a flat clean…AND paperwork."

Her lip began to tremble but she quickly turned away, marching into the kitchen.

She ripped open a cardboard-box near the door and rooted through it, finally finding her first aid kit. She stood and made to turn but found the looming figure of Sherlock Holmes standing right behind her.

"Here let me," he said, taking the kit from her hand gently and maneuvering her into a chair. "I've put Jennifer into her crib."

Rebecca slumped down and rubbed her tired face with her hand, giving a shaky sigh as Sherlock crouched before her and got to work.

"You should come back, to 221b," he said rubbing an anti-septic ointment onto her cut finger, but Rebecca shook her head.

"No, Sherlock, I told you I've made my decision, I'm sorry, but I'm staying here," she said quietly, wincing slightly as he applied a plaster.

The detective stared up at her.

"Cardiff," he muttered as Rebecca frowned.

"I was in Cardiff. There was a case. I decided to take it, to give you some space for a while," he uttered in a low voice, his face inches from Rebecca's.

They were close…

Oh so close…

Suddenly a wail was heard from the living room and Rebecca gave a small sigh, getting quickly to her feet.

"She wont settle for long," she muttered to Sherlock who followed her into the living room. "I've not long fed her and I don't think she would need changing again."

She made to pick up the baby but Sherlock's hand suddenly touched her arm.

"Can I..?' he muttered as he leant across Rebecca, picking up their wailing daughter as Rebecca sat down onto the sofa.

Her eyelids seemed to droop as she watched Sherlock sooth the whimpering Jennifer and she was suddenly struck with how similar they both looked. The same startling blue eyes and a dark tuft of curly brown hair upon their heads…

Sherlock peered down at the baby in his arms, who slowly calmed as he rocked her. He had just enough knowledge on children to make this work. Babies in particular, didn't need much, just food, warmth and a little attention and they were happy.

Sherlock sighed as he watched his daughter take a huge yawn before closing her eyes. How uncomplicated life was for her.

"Rebecca," he said, facing the window that overlooked the street. "I'm sorry….for leaving…for just going…..probably when you needed me the most."

He stopped and took a gulp.

" Its just that to me…solving a case…it's the only way I can really clear my head…the only way I can think. What I did to you….it was unforgivable….but I don't want to be apart from you, apart from our daughter…I want a family….with you."

He paused waiting for a reply.

"Rebecca?"

He swung around only to find that the young lawyer was fast asleep.

Somehow all of the stress and anxiety seemed to have disappeared from her face and she lay curled up, her head resting on a cushion.

Sherlock knew she hadn't heard him and realizing that this was probably her first proper rest in days he would let her sleep.

As quietly as he could, he reached into one of the half-unpacked boxes on the floor and pulled out a large tartan blanket. With a flourish he laid the fleece across the sleeping Rebecca.

She slowly nuzzled her blonde head further into the cushion as Sherlock paused for a long moment, staring long and hard at the two most important women in his life.

He sighed, knowing 221b would be an empty place without them but nevertheless, the detective turned on his heel, exiting out onto the cold street and closing the front door quietly behind him. He would try again next time.

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><p><strong>Hope that was….okay?<strong>

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter: TessaMoMessa, SuperFunkyGirl1, jeffhardyluvsme, 'anon', Jinx 456, GoldBee, TheDoctorsMistress, blackcat711, Darkly Dreaming, Mina Werewolf, cuteepiee1 & Gwilwillith.**

**Hope you like this chapter.**

…**. **

It was unusually warm for this time of year and Molly Hooper decided that she would walk to work this morning. Feel the first rays of sun of her face before her sixteen-hour shift at the morgue.

She took a detour through the shopping precincts near to her home watching the market vendors and the shops as they opened up for a day's business.

The young mortician could help but smile to herself as she walked past a bakery, smelling the freshly baked bread as the birds chirruped in the trees in the avenue above.

She was just about to think to herself what a lovely morning this was when all of a sudden a loud screaming could be heard in the quiet street. A baby.

Molly wrinkled her nose at the sound. The sound that was now disturbing her perfect morning.

As she swung around, ready to glare angrily at the terrible parent of the foul little beast responsible, her eyes met with a familiar face.

"Rebecca?" said the mortician, quickly running across the street to where her friend was standing, shushing her crying daughter.

Her friend looked so different, she would barely have recognised her were it not for her signature white coat and caramel blonde hair, which today was unfortunately hanging limply around her shoulders.

The young lawyer stared up at Molly, dark circles under her eyes.

"Molly…" she muttered through little Jennifer's cries. "Its good to see you."

The mortician bent down and stroked the baby's cheek with her hand and her screams quickly subsided.

"There we go," aid Molly smiling. "Much better."

But as she stared up at Rebecca she noticed her eyes were filled with tears.

"I don't know what to do Molly," she said trying to mask a sob. "She just doesn't stop crying…"

"Well she has now…" said Molly. "Does she need a change or something?"

Rebecca shook her head. "No," she said shaking her head. "I feed her, change her, play with her but nothing seems to work….its like I'm not good enough."

Molly bit her lip, staring at the scarily distraught woman before her.

"Have you spoken to Sherlock?" she asked kindly.

"I'm fine!" Snapped Rebecca almost instantly. "Sherlock doesn't need to know."

An awkward silence fell between the pair.

She stared up at Molly apologetically. "I'm so sorry Molly, I'm just feeling a bit…"

"Its understandable," said the mousy-haired mortician with a smile.

"Right then" uttered the young lawyer. "I've got to go, I need nappies and washing powder and about a million other things. I'll see you around."

"Yeah see you," uttered Molly, watching as Rebecca walked off, pushing the high-tech pram down the street.

….

"Where the hell have you been?" said John, hopping out of the cab to find Sherlock Holmes standing outside of Bart's, tapping away on his phone.

The dark-haired detective an hour ago with the words-

_[Bart's. Noon. SH]_

John had grumbled to himself about how he never had a day off anymore but had quickly wolfed down an early lunch and caught a cab to meet his old friend.

"I've was busy John," muttered the detective, slipping his blackberry into his pocket and making his way through the doors and into the hospital as John ran along after him.

"Busy?" said John, eyebrows raised. "You just left her. For two weeks!"

"She wanted it this way," said Sherlock in a bored tone.

"Yeah she explained her reasons, but that still doesn't give you the- Sherlock are you even listening to me?"

John stopped in his tracks as Sherlock did the same swinging around to face him. "Of course I'm listening John," spat the detective. "But what do you want me to say? That I'm going to fight for her? Try to make her see sense? I've tried all that and she sill wants to be alone, what I am expected to do?"

John paused opening his mouth to speak before shutting it tightly once again, marching forwards and knocking into Sherlock's shoulder as he did so.

"Come on," he yelled at the detective. "I'm assuming you brought me here on a case?

Sherlock frowned after him and followed him down to the lower levels of Bart's.

A few minutes later they were in the same familiar morgue John had seen a million times. A large sheeted cadaver taking centre stage as usual.

They were only there a matter of seconds before Molly appeared carrying a clipboard.

"Hi," she squeaked, giving them a wide smile. "He's just come in."

She nodded to the body on the slab, moving over and removing the top pat of the sheet.

An overweight, balding man lay grey and cold on the metal table. On his chest a huge gaping wound was visible.

"Explain the cause of death Molly if you would," said Sherlock taking a step back, allowing the young mortician to speak.

"Um, it's a bit weird actually. He had no other trauma's apart from this one," said pointing at the wound. "If I hadn't have been here when he had come in I'd have thought another mortician had been at him first."

She let out a nervous laugh, glancing at the two men, but neither of them returned it.

"Why do you say that?' asked John, peering curiously at the wound.

"Well," she went on. "The incisions made are really precise. Its like they were performing an autopsy on him before he'd even died."

"An autopsy?" asked John shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Why? What's missing?"

Molly paused for a second, letting out a small gulp before answering. "His heart."

John frowned, before looking to Sherlock. The detective however seemed to read his mind, shushing him before he'd even had a chance to say a word.

"I'm thinking," said Sherlock, closing his eyes and lifting his hands to his temples.

His two friends stood in silence and watched in awe as his eyes seemed to flicker beneath their lids and he mouthed silently.

Suddenly the sound of a baby crying could be heard, echoing in the corridors outside the room.

Sherlock snapped out of his trance and swung round instantly, to watch a greying old woman saunter past the glass windows holding a six-month old baby in dungarees.

"Oh that's just Alice from blood-work," said Molly in a friendly tone. "She said she was bringing her grandson in to show us all today."

"To a morgue?" said Sherlock in a poisonous voice. "How delightful for him?"

Molly's smile disappeared as Sherlock turned back to the body on the table.

"Right, I can't really see what use I am here whilst Sherlock's still delving into his mind-castle…"

"It's a palace," snapped the detective. "A mind-palace."

"Whatever," shrugged John. "I'm going to get some coffee anyone want anything?"

Both parties declined as John waltzed off in search of a vending machine.

The young mortician glanced at Sherlock.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," she said cheerily. "I bumped into Rebecca this morning."

The detective stood up straight and turned to her, but didn't speak.

"She looked a little stressed," said Molly staring down. "I think Jenny's a bit of a handful."

Sherlock frowned.

"No I didn't mean-" stuttered Molly, flushing immediately. "She's lovely and bonny a-and cute…its just that…I not sure how Rebecca's coping with everything. She seemed really upset…"

Before Molly could even uttered another syllable Sherlock had turned on his heel and made for the door, storming past John as he ambled in with a cup of hot coffee.

"Sherlock- " he said, mouth agape, but the detective was long out of earshot.

….

Rebecca had just put Jennifer down when there was a loud knock at the door.

She frowned, tucking her lank hair behind her ear before making her way to the front door, tugging it open.

Her frown deepened as she stared into the face of the person in her doorway,

"What do you want?" she snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I've come to see how you were. I've just seen Molly-"

"Oh and what's she been saying?" snapped Rebecca looking tense.

"She just mentioned you were seeming a little strained when you met?" he uttered, looking her up and down. "Can I come in?"

"I've just put Jennifer down," she said icily. "If you wake her up now, she'll never sleep tonight."

Sherlock stared long and hard at her and she looked away, her eyes lined and tired.

"I'm her father Rebecca," he said warningly.

"Yeah and I'm her mother!" snapped the young lawyer. "I carried her for nine months when you were swanning off solving cases with Irene and these past two weeks…where were you Sherlock?"

"I told you exactly where I was," he said in a dangerous tone. "Now let me in to see my daughter." His eyes were black. "I have a right."

"No you don't Sherlock. You need to earn that right and until you do you're not seeing her."

And with that Rebecca slammed the door in Sherlock's face.

She held her breath, afraid that he would try to unpick the lock or break down her door after seeing the fury in his eyes, but she saw his looming shape pause for a moment, silhouetted in the frosted glass of her front door before he finally turned and walked back down her front path.

Rebecca let out a ragged breath and broke down into loud sobs, leaning back against the door. Tears streamed down her tired face, as she slid down to the floor, crumpling in a heap at the bottom.

What had she done?

…

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to all who reviewed: Jinx 456, lowercourselandforms, SuperFunkyGirl1, 'anon', TheDoctorsMistress, Mina Werewolf, Gwilwillith, Bec, Ladey Jezzabella & GoldBee.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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><p>Steven Partridge walked briskly down the dark alleyway. A sudden chilling wind whistled past him and he tugged his coat around him tightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.<p>

It was very dark, the only light coming from a yellow streetlamp the other side of the dim alley, but still Steven walked.

He checked his phone for the time, the stark light suddenly illuminating Steven's face, but around him the shadows drew in.

He breathed hard. 11.49. He was late. His wife would definitely kill him now. This was the third night on the trot he had gone to the pub with workmates and stayed out much longer than intended. That's why he had taken this shortcut, down the side street that came out near to his block of flats.

He strode forwards, making to stuff his phone back in his pocket but as he did so a cloth of foul smelling liquid was suddenly held over his mouth and nose.

He made to struggle, to pull away, but before he could do so, everything was plunged into darkness.

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><p>It had been three days since Sherlock and Rebecca had argued.<p>

The detective of course had tried to throw himself into his work, trying to solve the case of the heart-less man, but the harder he tried to concentrate the more difficult he found it.

Reminders of Rebecca and Jennifer were everywhere. Not just in the flat but on every street, every minute of every day.

Part of him was still angry with Rebecca for what she had said and done to him. To deny him access to his own daughter? It was unthinkable.

But Sherlock knew her too well. He knew she was not acting in her usual fashion. He saw it in her face. The dark circles under her eyes and sallow pale skin that told him she hadn't slept in days, hardly taking time to eat either. She was under strain. So he would wait, bide his time...

Sherlock lay across his sofa in an eerily quiet 221b. He had detested being alone here since his return. The absence of the woman he loved was all the more obvious now...in the stillness of the night.

He let out a long breath of air. It was almost midnight and the detective was still dressed in his suit, too lethargic to change into anything more comfortable.

He was frustrated, angry and more importantly- alone.

He would have sold his own mother for a cigarette right at this moment.

He let out another long breath.

Normally he would have gone downstairs to bother Mrs Hudson, but his landlady was unfortunately visiting her sister for the week (being sure to leave Sherlock's fridge fully stocked before she left of course).

He had even thought about calling around to see John, but he knew that his old friend would only harass him about Rebecca and Jennifer. He didn't want to deal with that right now.

His head seemed to buzz with thoughts as he lay there, yet even he the great Sherlock Holmes could not make coherent sense of all the information stacked into his brain. He needed release. Someone to talk to. To bounce ideas off. He hadn't been alone in a long time…and if truth be told… he couldn't stand it. Not anymore.

He closed his eyes, bringing his fingers up to his chin and let out a steady breath, just as a doorbell rang from downstairs.

"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock yelled before stopping suddenly, remembering that his landlady was miles and miles away.

The bell rang again, more urgently this time and Sherlock's brow furrowed.

He would ignore it. It would only be some pointless passer by looking for Mrs Hudson or perhaps someone looking for his help on a case. Either way he wasn't interested.

The bell rang again, and a fist bashed against the door. It sounded desperate.

Sherlock almost growled, his eyes flashing open suddenly. He wrenched himself off the sofa and skulked into the corridor, as the doorbell rang again.

Taking the stairs two by two he reached the hallway and tugged open the door.

"Would you go away, I'm trying to-"

He stopped mid-speech as he stared at the figure standing on the pavement before him.

It was Rebecca, clutching a large bag and carrycot containing Jennifer, to her chest.

Tears clung to the young lawyer's face as she trembled under Sherlock's gaze.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, masking a sob. "I didn't know what else to do…"

Sherlock stared at her blankly for a moment, before she spoke again.

"She wont stop crying a-and… I've tried everything…." She said, her lip quivering. "…but I'm just so tired… and I didn't know… I was all on my own…."

Heavy tears dropped from her eyelashes as Jennifer wriggled in her cot.

"I can't do this alone, Sherlock…"

She looked so sad, so upset. His heart almost broke in two.

Sherlock didn't say a word but he stepped forwards, carefully removing the heavy carrycot from Rebecca's grasp and stepping aside so that the young lawyer could step into the warmth of the hallway.

Tears still fell from her eyes as Sherlock closed the door behind her and beckoned her up the staircase.

They were silent all the way to the top, both entering their living room, where the embers still glowed warm in the grate.

"Does she need feeding?" asked Sherlock, staring down at his daughter who snuggled further down under her fluffy white blanket.

Rebecca turned to him, her eyes wide, as if she had only just remembered he was there.

"N-No," she muttered quietly, shaking her head. "She shouldn't need another until morning."

Sherlock gave a nod, moving forwards and pressing a hand to Rebecca's lower back ushering her into his bedroom.

Pushing open the door to the dimly lit room, Sherlock placed Jennifer and her cot down on a large armchair in the corner of the room. Making sure it was secure, he stepped back and turned to Rebecca. The young lawyer stood almost nervously by the door, her tear-strewn eyelids drooping.

He moved over to the bed, picking up one of his shirts that that had been carelessly thrown there and handed it to her.

She took it graciously. Her favorite item of sleepwear had always been his shirts, whether that was an attachment to him or not he was unsure.

Tiredly she removed her coat and blouse and slowly stripped out of her skirt. Sherlock couldn't help but gaze at her near-naked form, the baby-weight having dropped off, probably through a diet of barely anything and running around after a newborn all alone.

Sherlock gave a gulp as his eyes travelled up to her tired face. She had been right. She had carried this child for all of nine months and then for her to have to fend for herself afterwards without his help... Unfair wasn't even the word. Sherlock stared down at the found a horrible feeling catching in the pit of his stomach. Was this guilt for all he had put her through?

He gazed up at her, pushing these thoughts from his mind as he watched her buttoning up his burgundy shirt over her breasts, before sitting down upon his bed… their bed.

"I should leave you to it…" he said in a deep voice, swishing past her, making towards the door.

"Don't… " said Rebecca's sudden voice, making him stop in his tracks gazing down at her. "Don't go…"

Sherlock blinked before letting out a slow nod and shutting the bedroom door quietly.

Rebecca shuffled across the mattress, pulling the cool sheets up over her body as Sherlock removed his shoes and his jacket and slumped down beside her.

She turned her body towards him, as Sherlock did the same.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the bond between them still there… deep down.

Rebecca sighed, closing her eyes. Being so close, Sherlock could hear each of her soft breaths becoming deeper and slower with every minute that passed. And that is how they remained, the entire night, both laying side-by-side but never touching…not even once.

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><p>Lestrade gave a huge yawn, flicking off the light to his office. It was the end of his shift and he was exhausted, so it wasn't any surprise that he let out a large groan of frustration as he saw Donovan running towards him a large file in her hand.<p>

"No, Donovan," said Lestrade grabbing his coat. "Tell me in the morning."

But Donovan stopped in front of him, a serious look upon her face.

"But Sir… there's been another one…"

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter: Jinx 456,** **Mina Werewolf, xNinjaxBunnyx, GoldBee, TheDoctorsMistress, Faith Rivens, 'anon' Bec, Darkly Dreaming, Gwilwillith, TessaMoMessa & mstef.**

**Hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

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><p>John's feet pounded the pavement as he ran up Baker Street. He skidded to a clumsy halt outside Speedy's sandwich bar, fumbling in his pockets for a key.<p>

Despite leaving 221b he had of course kept the key to his old flat. Rebecca had all but insisted he should. She knew Sherlock... And the 'temptations' he faced on a day-to-day basis. And apart from her, John was the only person who could make the detective see sense.

But today the blonde doctor wasn't using his key for Sherlock's sake. Quickly twisting it in the lock, he let himself into the darkened hallway, shutting the door behind him, blocking out all of the mid-morning sun.

He leapt up the staircase. Taking the steps two at a time, his heavy footfalls echoing loudly on the wooden boards beneath him.

"Would you keep it down John..." came Sherlock's deep tones from the living room.

In any normal circumstances John would have snapped at his old flatmate's attempts at recognising his footfalls, but today he had more pressing matters to worry about.

"Sherlock, I think there might be something wrong with Rebecca and the baby," said the doctor calling up the last few steps, his heart thumping in his chest. "I've tried ringing her and there's no answer... I've even been around her flat but she's nowhere to be-"

He skidded to a halt as he took in the sight that met him in the living room.

Sherlock was seated in his usual armchair by the fire, baby Jennifer cradled snugly in his arms.

"Problem?" muttered Sherlock with a frown.

John could do nothing but gape. He pointed, still catching his breath.

"She's...?" he started before scratching the back of his head. "And Rebecca's...?"

"Here," came a sudden voice from behind him as he swung around.

Rebecca stood by the sliding doors of the kitchen wearing nothing but a small towel, her damp hair hanging loose past her slender shoulders.

"Oh..." muttered John staring to Sherlock then Rebecca and back again. "Oh right...well then...I'd best leave you to it."

Both parties stared at the blonde doctor with slightly bemused expressions on their faces.

"See you later then..." he said backing out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Rebecca suppressed a laugh as Sherlock let out a small grin. Their eyes met...

"Did you sleep well?" asked Sherlock after a long moment as Rebecca came to sit opposite him in John's old armchair.

"Yes, I did..." she said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "...thanks...for last night by the way."

Sherlock stared up at her but her eyes were in her lap.

"You needn't thank me.." he muttered slowly, shifting his arms to that Jennifer was resting more comfortably in his grasp.

"It's just I'm grateful..." muttered Rebecca. "I was tired...a-and stressed out..."

"It's understandable," said Sherlock simply.

"But that doesn't mean I'm apologising..." she said sharply, her eyes snapping up to stare at him. "...for what I said the other day."

Sherlock frowned.

"You do need to earn the right to be a father...you need to realise you're responsible for another human bring now...you can't just go swanning off when you feel like it...leaving us..."

Rebecca spoke with such authority that Sherlock was almost taken aback.

The dark-haired detective paused for a minute contemplating her words, before he finally nodded.

"Understood."

Rebecca gazed up at him, before her eyes fell down towards Jennifer.

"You're good with her," she murmured.

Sherlock said nothing merely staring down into the tiny face of his daughter. She gurgled and rasped.

"You should stay..." said Sherlock suddenly.

"What? Come back?" asked Rebecca, running her fingers through her damp hair. "Sherlock we've been over this already. You and me...it's just not going to work anymore."

She shook her head sadly, her voice seeming to break at these words.

Sherlock silently got to his feet, the tiny Jennifer still resting snugly in his arms.

"I can assure you you're feelings towards our relationship have already been made clear enough," Sherlock uttered with a touch of bitterness in his voice, sliding open the door to the kitchen with his foot. "But I don't see any reason why we can't utilise this situation. If you moved back here it would certainly make caring for Jennifer a little easier."

He flicked on the kettle as Rebecca stared down at the carpet for a moment, thinking hard.

"I suppose it might work," she said getting to her feet and following him into the kitchen, holding the towel around herself carefully. "If you're ok with that?"

Sherlock, who had his back to her as he got a couple of mugs down from the cupboard, gave a small wrinkled smile.

"I don't see it can do any harm," he said glancing at her. "Can you cancel the contract on your flat?"

Rebecca nodded throwing him a grin. "I'm a lawyer Sherlock," she said turning and making to head back into Sherlock's bedroom. "If I cant find a clause, no one can."

Sherlock scoffed.

"Ok, Ok," she said rolling her eyes. "Apart from you."

She threw him another grin as she disappeared around the door.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later Rebecca re-appeared fully dressed, her face bright with a small amount of make-up and her hair sleek and shiny.<p>

She looked very different to how she had done the previous night.

Sherlock fought the urge to tell her how nice she looked.

"I found these clothes in the drawer, I'm glad they fit me again," said Rebecca conversationally, as Sherlock sat at the table reading a newspaper.

The young lawyer moved over to where Jennifer who was wriggling in her cot in the corner of the room. She kissed the tiny baby softly on the forehead, pushing back her tuft of dark hair as she did so.

"Will you be alright if I leave you, just for an hour or so, so I can pop into the office?" she said glancing up at Sherlock.

The dark-haired detective turned in his chair to look at her.

"Of course," he said giving a slow nod, getting to his feet. "I'm assuming everything she needs is here?"

Rebecca nodded, grasping up her coat. "There's nappies and wipes in the bag and I've left milk in the kitchen. Is that okay?"

Sherlock blinked slowly. "Perfect," he said in a deep voice, as Rebecca gave him a small, yet worried smile.

She made to leave but stopped suddenly, turning around to stare at him. "I-Its just that…well this is the first time I'll have left her…"

Sherlock softened slightly, moving over to the young lawyer. Without even realising what he was doing he grasped her hand in his.

They both stared down for a moment, looking at the contact between them, before Rebecca tore her hand away.

"Right, Id best be going," she muttered quietly. "Ill see you in an hour."

And with that she made her way out of the door as Sherlock stared after her.

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes later, Sherlock ran a frustrated hand through his thick dark hair.<p>

Jennifer had been crying for the past ten minutes or so. He had attempted to feed her but it seemed she wasn't hungry. He had tried to change her (consulting an online article on how to do so before-hand of course) but she hadn't needed changing.

Now he held her, one hand beneath her rear and the other on her neck, holding her against his shoulder.

He had been slowly moving about the room trying to get her to shut up but nothing seemed to be working.

Now he knew what Rebecca must have felt like for the past two weeks. That pang of guilt hit him again.

"Jennifer," uttered Sherlock in a warning voice.

For the smallest of moments her wailing seemed to subside but as soon enough the screaming had re-started again.

Sherlock frowned darkly wishing she would just go back to sleep. She was perfect to him then.

He knew there were many ways of knocking out a human and many of the chemicals he would need to create such a concoction lay about his kitchen, but he doubted Rebecca would approve. No, he would even take that risk. He had seen her angry and didn't want to cross that path again. He sub-consciously lifted a hand to his cheek and rubbed it gingerly.

Suddenly Sherlock's phone began to bleep in his inside pocket causing Jennifer's wailing to increase.

Fishing it out with great difficulty, Sherlock pressed the device to his ear.

"What?" said the detective with a growl, unhappy with anyone who would disturb him at such a critical time.

"Hi, Sherlock it's me, Lestrade," came the voice of the silver-haired Detective Inspector down the line. "Listen I'm going to need you to come look at a body."

"I'm busy," said Sherlock through gritted teeth, as Jennifer's wails reached a crescendo.

"Yeah, I can hear that," said Lestrade. "I'm sorry Sherlock, but I wouldn't call unless I was desperate."

"Cant it wait?" asked the cold detective angrily, bouncing Jennifer up and down in his free hand in an attempt to quiet her.

"It cant I'm afraid," uttered the stressed DI. "We're not going to be able to hold the scene from the press for long. The place where we found the body…its pretty public."

Sherlock let out a heavy sigh. "Alright I'll be there. Give me the address and I'll take a cab."

Sherlock heard Lestrade give a sigh.

"Fulham football club."

* * *

><p><strong>I know nothing about football but this going somewhere I promise.<strong>

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to SanctuaryLover, JumperGuy, ktmt1120, jeffhardyluvsme, Ohana13, Clodagh, TheDoctorsMistress, Jess, England's Rose, Juliet's Pen, Jinx 456, GoldBee,**

**Bookwormiie, blod1tatws, SuperFunkyGirl1, Mina Werewolf, LillianaKay2011, Gwilwillith, Darkly Dreaming, Procrastination Is My Game, Faith Rivens & TessaMoMessa for reviewing.**

* * *

><p>Lestrade let out a long sigh as he gazed up at the high gates of Fulham Football club.<p>

A small tent had been erected at the bottom of the gates covering the remains of the poor bloke inside.

The police had identified him as Steven Partridge, a city boy and family man. His wallet, ID, phone and keys had all remained safely in his pocket and yet his body had been moved miles and miles from his route home. As well as this, another grisly factor still remained...

"Sir, if we wait any longer the press are going to be all over us," said Donovan shaking her head.

"She's right," sneered Anderson. "news of this will be out soon enough."

Lestrade hunched his shoulders defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sherlock'll be here," he said sharply. "We need him. Unless you two have any bright ideas about this case?"

The pair remained quiet and Donovan scowled, gazing just over Lestrade's shoulder...

Her jaw suddenly dropped.

"S-Sir?"

Both Lestrade and Anderson turned to her before both swinging around to stare at what had caught Donovan's eye.

Coolly strolling across the Tarmac towards them was the looming Sherlock Holmes. The trio stared bewildered as they watched him duck under the police tape, his coat fluttering behind him in the breeze and something ominous swinging from his arm.

As he walked, more and more officers stopped what they were doing and turned to watch him. All mouths were agape, shell-shocked...

He ignored them and walked right up to where Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan all stood.

"When was the body found?" asked Sherlock instantly, glancing over towards the small blue tent and to where an elderly man with a dog was being questioned. "I'm presuming it was around dawn, perhaps slightly earlier judging by the dog-walker who found him."

The dark-haired detective paid no attention to the whispers and pointing that now went on around him.

By this point Lestrade wanted to burst but he seemed to have lost the ability to speak. After a long moment he finally composed himself.

"Sherlock! You cannot bring a baby to a crime scene!" he said through gritted teeth.

The Detective Inspector pointed down to the large carrycot swinging from Sherlock's grasp in which a wriggling baby could be seen.

Sherlock looked affronted.

"You asked for me to be here, Inspector," uttered Sherlock in his most poisonous voice.

Lestrade gaped. "Yeah but I didn't know you were going to bring your daughter with you!"

Sherlock scowled. "Her name is Jennifer," he snapped as Anderson crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

"Rebecca is going to kill you," uttered the forensics officer shaking his head.

Sherlock shot him a look but said nothing. He knew it was true. Rebecca would kill him if she found out he had brought their daughter to a crime scene, but there was no way she could possibly find out. He had covered his tracks well enough and they would be back within the hour under the pretence of getting some fresh air.

Donovan leaned over the cot and cooed at the baby inside, waggling a finger in front of Jennifer's face. After a second she stood up straight, hands on hips. She shook her head.

"How the hell did a freak like you manage to produce a beautiful girl like that?" she said almost rhetorically.

Sherlock opened his mouth to snap back but stopped himself, gazing down at the baby at his side. The usually cold-detective softened slightly, glancing up at Donovan.

"She obviously takes after Rebecca in that respect," he muttered, before striding over to the blue tent.

Lestrade was about to follow him before he felt Anderson tug at his sleeve.  
>"Sir, I believe the word has just gotten out."<p>

Lestrade turned and let out a groan as half a dozen camera crews pulled up to the police line.

"Oh bloody he'll, that's all we need!"

* * *

><p>Sherlock pushed back the tent flaps and strolled inside, baby Jennifer still snuggled up in her carrycot.<p>

She let out a happy gurgle, unaware that there was a dead man laying merely a few feet away from them. Obviously she doesn't take after her mother in that way then, thought Sherlock.

He moved over to the body as Lestrade entered the tent behind him.

"The cavalry have arrived," he sighed before his eyes fell on the cot in Sherlock's arms. "Sherlock! You can't bring a baby in here!"

"Why not?" asked Sherlock looking scandalised.

The Detective Inspector marched over, wrestling the cot from Sherlock's grasp.

"Because this is a crime scene, it's no place for a little girl!"

The consulting detective scowled at the grey-haired Inspector.

"I'll wait outside with her while you do your stuff, ok?" said Lestrade in an almost pleading voice, knowing that if child protection ever got a whiff of this, that baby would be taken away from them faster that you could say Sherlock Holmes.

As Lestrade pushed back the flaps and left the tent, Sherlock got to work, he leant over the man's body, extracting his magnifying glass from his pocket as he did so.

* * *

><p>Lestrade let out a long sigh as he waited in the early morning sun.<p>

He could see the reporters filming as near to the police tape as they could get. They were unrelenting and soon the news would be out. Another murderer on the loose.

The tired Detective Inspector stared down at baby Jennifer.

"Let's just hope your Dad helps us solve this one quickly," he said yawning, speaking quietly to the little girl, who let out a gentle hiccup. "Your Uncle Greg needs his beauty sleep."

A moment later Sherlock reappeared out of the tent, peeling off his latex gloves and taking Jennifer's cot back from Lestrade.

"It's the same," said the dark-haired detective bluntly staring down at his daughter for a quick second.

"What's the same?" said Lestrade gazing at Sherlock bewildered.

"The bodies, the man found last week with the missing heart and this man. His liver and kidneys have been removed. The incisions are surgical, almost too perfect. This is a professional job, done by someone who knows exactly what they are doing."

"So you're saying the two are connected?" asked Lestrade seriously, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," said Sherlock pursing his lips. "I'll text Molly. She can take a proper look at him and let me know if there are any other connections."

Lestrade gave a nod before glancing over at the line of reporters that were pointing their cameras right towards them.

"So are we saying this is a killer on the loose, Sherlock?" said Lestrade in a tired voice. "Because if it is, I'm going to have to let the press know..."

Sherlock sniffed. "Yes," he murmured. "And a very clever one at that."

Lestrade let out a sigh.

* * *

><p>Rebecca strutted along the busy high street, weaving in and out of city workers on their lunch hour.<p>

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced at her reflection in a shop window.

After more than nine months, she finally felt herself again. Strong, smart and on the ball.

She looked good too. Her hair was glossy and her weight was back down, and a little lip-gloss and a dab of blushed made a whole lot of difference.

But it wasn't just her appearance. Knowing that she didn't have to look after Jennifer all alone made her feel like everything was good. Like everything was slotting into place.

There was just one thing missing...

Rebecca bit her lip her mind travelling to the dark-haired detective she knew so well.

Giving a soft sigh, she turned to walk into a coffee shop before she headed home.

As she waited in line, she pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a quick text to Sherlock.

_[Just on my way home. Everything alright with Jennifer?]  
><em>  
>She got a reply almost instantly.<p>

_[Just taking her to Richmond Park for some fresh air. We'll be home soon. SH]_

Rebecca slipped her mobile back in her pocket and glanced up at a large flat screen TV that hung in the corner of the cafe that showed a rolling news channel.

On the screen was a TV presenter standing in front of a bleak-looking crime scene.

"All we know at this time," said the presenter holding a microphone, "is that the body of a thirty-two year old man has been found outside Fulham Football grounds. We do not know the identity of this man as of yet but what we do know is that the police are treating his death as suspicious and are looking for anyone with any information to come forward..."

Rebecca watched interestedly as the queue moved forwards and the lady at the counter smiled. "What can I get you?"

But Rebecca's attention was drawn by something else on the screen. A familiar figure walking in the background, a large pink carrycot swinging from his arm.

Sherlock.

Rebecca's eyes widened for a long moment before her face suddenly contorted into an angry scowl.

"Lying bastard!" she shouted, turning quickly on her heel and storming from the coffee shop, leaving the other customers staring after her.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for not updating in a while. Thanks to Littlefoot the Warrior, Bec, BeautifulMemoryS, LaserScrewdriver, Gwilwillith, Jinx 456, ****Clodagh, Darkly Dreaming & SuperFunkyGirl1 for reviewing.**

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><p>John took a long gulp of tea before turning the pages of his broadsheet. After this mornings excursions he wanted nothing more than to relax and pretty much no nothing for the rest of the day.<p>

It took him great difficulty not to roll his eyes as his phone beeped signalling a new message.

_[1 new message]_

_Turn on BBC1! _

_Sarah X  
><em>

John frowned as he swiftly lifted the remote flicking on the TV.

This time he really did roll his eyes.

"Rebecca is going to kill you, Sherlock…"

* * *

><p>"Right then," said Sherlock slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I've just text Molly. I've asked her to take a look at the bodies and let me know if there's anything else we've missed."<p>

Lestrade let out a tired nod. "Thanks for that Sherlock. And if you do figure out anything else let me know alright? I know what you're like when you go off investigating on your own, so I need to be kept up to date…"

There was a loud rumble of thunder and Jennifer immediately began to cry.

"Oh and Sherlock," said Lestrade pointing to the cot as Anderson and Donovan approached them. "Don't bring her here again. I can't imagine Rebecca will be too happy if she ever finds out."

"I've got a feeling she already has," said Anderson in a poisonous voice, pointing over Sherlock's shoulder.

Lestrade and the dark-haired detective swung around.

Sherlock could only gulp at the sight that met his eyes…

Strutting towards them was Rebecca, high heels clip-clopping angrily across the tarmac, her hair flying wildly behind her.

Jennifer screamed ever louder.

* * *

><p>Rebecca approached the police line as a young, skinny officer made to stop her.<p>

"I'm sorry madam, but this is a crime scene-" he utterly thickly, but Rebecca cut across him.

"If you don't let me pass, your colleagues will have one more death on their hands. If you understand what I'm saying?" she said sharply.

The officer gaped. "Y-You can't threaten a police officer-" he started but Lestrade's voice drowned him out.

"Let her through," he yelled, as Rebecca ducked under the police tape, which fluttered in the wind.

She made her way to Sherlock, her face set into a deep scowl, as all of the officers on site turned to watch in shocked awe.

"Rebecca-" started the detective as Jennifer wailed loudly.

"Don't even try justifying this to me Sherlock!" she cried reaching forwards and lifting Jennifer from her cot.

The baby girl desisted crying almost immediately.

"Oh you're in for it now," laughed Anderson folding his arms across his chest, as Donovan chuckled beside him.

"And you two can shut up too!" snapped Rebecca turning on them. "You're all to blame in this, even you Greg! None of you even thought to call me when you saw him rocking up with a five-week old baby in tow?"

The three of them looked away sheepishly as Rebecca finally turned back to Sherlock.

"And you!" she cried jabbing him in the chest with her finger. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Sherlock gazed at her darkly. "They needed my help here," he muttered.

"And you thought it would be a good idea to drag our daughter along with you?" said Rebecca jabbing him again as she drew herself up to her full height.

With her high heels, they were now nose-to-nose, mere inches apart. Rebecca breathing fire, as Sherlock remained mute.

"Well?" she said in a dangerous whisper.

"It was a mistake," said Sherlock coolly.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. "You're damn right it was a mistake. This whole thing," she said grabbing the cot from Sherlock's hand. "-is a mistake!"

With that she turned on her heel and marched off, the tiny Jennifer gurgling happily in her arms, unaware of how much her parents were angry at each other at that moment.

Sherlock could only watch as the two women he loved left the site.

* * *

><p>Lestrade sighed inwardly as he watched Rebecca leave and Sherlock gaze after them longingly.<p>

He Detective Inspector hadn't slept in almost 24 hours and knew he would regret his next decision, but nevertheless he rested a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and gave his friend a firm pat.

"Let's go for a drink…"

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry I haven't updated in ages, been very very busy at work. **

**Thanks to Sally Fantastic, BadAppleAnime, Bec, Cotton Strings, jeffhardyluvsme, Jinx 456, Gwilwillith, kie1993, OptimisticLivvy & BeautifulMemoryS for reviewing the last chapter.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

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><p>"…and that's bloody women all over isn't it…" slurred Lestrade, taking another large swig of beer. "Cant live with them, cant live without them."<p>

Sherlock gave an inward sigh, glancing at the drunken Inspector beside him.

Lestrade had dragged him to a dingy pub on the corner of the street and had spent the last couple of hours lecturing Sherlock on the ways of womankind. Though the problems Lestrade seemed to have had with the women in his life seemed to outweigh the issues he and Rebecca were having by a mile. The poor man getting drunker and drunker as the minutes passed.

"My wife," uttered Lestrade, setting down his pint glass. "She's always threatening to leave me, but she always comes back in the end."

He gave a hiccup and his eyes drooped momentarily.

"But your Rebecca," he continued, snapping out of it. "She's a totally different kettle of fish… Aren't you going to drink that?"

He pointed to the pint of bitter he had bought for Sherlock more than an hour ago, which the dark-haired detective had not even touched.

Sherlock lazily pushed the glass towards Lestrade and crossed his arms across his chest.

"So tell me Inspector," uttered Sherlock making Lestrade jump. (Sherlock hadn't spoken once in the past thirty minutes.) "Why is Rebecca so different?"

Lestrade took several long swigs of Sherlock's beer before setting it down. He slumped back in his chair before beginning to speak.

"Rebecca is different because she knows exactly how to deal with you Sherlock. When you're in one of your moods she was always the only one who can bring you back. I mean, John's a pretty close candidate too but Rebecca is one of a kind."

Sherlock shifted in his seat as Lestrade continued, his eyes blinking heavily.

"I remember all those years ago, when you dragged her along to a crime scene with you, the first time I met her… you would snap at her and she would snap back…. and you would look at her like she was the strangest creature you had ever seen. I think you loved her even then."

Sherlock said nothing but merely stared down at the sticky table, his cold, hard glare softening for a moment.

He glanced up to give a sarcastic retort only to find Lestrade slumped back in his chair. He was fast asleep.

Sherlock gave a sigh before getting slowly to his feet. With great difficulty and HUGE amounts of resentment he manoeuvred his shoulder beneath the Detective Inspectors arm and helped carry the drunken man from the pub.

* * *

><p>"He's just an idiot, Rebecca. You know what he's like," muttered John, taking a sip of his cappuccino.<p>

John had called Rebecca whilst she was in the cab back to 221b with Jennifer. The pair had arranged to meet for a quick catch up and a coffee in Speedy's café, next-door to her flat.

"Yeah, I know exactly what he's like," said Rebecca shaking her head. "And that's what scares me."

She peeked into the carry- cot beside her, where Jennifer was sleeping contently.

John's lips twitched as he thought of a response that would calm his friend and not infuriate her further.

"I know he can be irresponsible and seems to have no common sense when it comes to stuff like this but he'll learn. He'll take today as a lesson. He'll realise why you're angry and it'll teach him not to do it again."

Rebecca took a sip of her tea, placing her cup down gently before speaking.

"Really? Because I think we both know that Sherlock doesn't like being told what to do," she said with a shake of her head.

"I've heard he does when it's coming from you," said John with a cheeky grin, raising his eyebrows.

Rebecca rolled her eyes, but couldn't help letting out a small smirk.

She lifted her cup to her lips once again and drained it.

"Well I'd best get Jennifer in," said Rebecca with a sigh. "We should do this again. How about you come over…for supper one evening?"

John grinned. "Yeah it'll be like old times. Me back at 221b."

Rebecca smiled as they both got to their feet and made their way out of the café, Jennifer still sleeping quietly but what they didn't notice was the man at the back of the café watching them. The man who lifted a phone to his ear as they left.

* * *

><p>Sherlock strolled along the busy pavement, hands thrust deep into his pockets.<p>

He had spent the last forty-five minutes not only getting Lestrade in a cab and to his front door, but also helping his furious wife get him into bed to sleep it off.

"What the hell are you two playing at?" His wife had screamed. "It's bloody five-thirty and he can't even stand!"

Sherlock hadn't bothered apologizing to the angry woman. He had just given his best false smile and told her a few home truths about her attitude, which on reflection would not bode well for Lestrade's hangover tomorrow morning.

Now he turned the corner of Baker Street, ready to come face to face with Rebecca. He knew she would still be furious, he knew her too well. She would never let something like this lie, she was almost as bad as John in that respect.

As he glanced up, Sherlock was almost sure he saw a familiar car sweeping around the far corner of the street, but even his eyes weren't quick enough and as soon as he had seen it, it was gone.

He didn't care though, as right now he had more important tings to worry about. Like what exactly Rebecca was would say to him once he was inside. More importantly, how he himself was going to justify what he had done. He frowned to himself as he approached the door to his flat, grasped his keys and pushed open the shiny door, but just as he stepped over the threshold he noticed something on the ground and bent down to pick it up.

It was one of Jennifer's teddy bears all pink and fluffy just lying outside the door.

Sherlock's frown deepened as he crouched there, turning it over in his hand.

Rebecca would never be so careless, especially when it was one of Jennifer's favourites. She would have noticed it missing by now and at least come down to look for it.

Sherlock stood up straight and stared through the open door and into the gloomy hallway. There was no sound from inside. No crying Jennifer, no radio playing annoying pop songs, no Rebecca cooing gently to their baby girl.

Just nothing.

Nothing but a murmur…

The slightest of sounds coming from behind a closed door. Perhaps a voice. But it was low. Very low. Not Rebecca's voice or even John's. Someone else…

Sherlock pocketed the fluffy animal and pushed the door closed as quietly as he could.

He moved further into the hallway and gazed up the stairs. Something wasn't right. His heart pounded in his chest as he began to climb. He could almost feel another presence in the house. A presence that shouldn't be there.

Mrs Hudson was still away until the following morning so it should just be Rebecca and Jennifer, alone in the place together.

Sherlock was as silent as a tiger, stalking prey through the grass. He climbed the stairs, his hard shoes barely even making a sound upon the hard floorboards. His ears were pricking at the slightest of sounds, but it was only when he got to the top could he make out the noise he was really listening for. The voice.

"Where is he?" came a low voice, through the slightly ajar door to their living room. The thick accent was male, Eastern European. "Where is Sherlock Holmes?"

Sherlock nimbly edged through the shadows until he was standing, staring through the crack in the door.

He had to try his best to stop a growl from escaping his throat from the sight that met his eyes.

Tied to a chair in the centre of the room was Rebecca, her hair now loose around her shoulder and her silk blouse slightly ripped at the sleeve. Anger bubbled up in Sherlock as he stared at the scene.

In front of her stood a looming, broad-shouldered man wielding a knife.

He could see Rebecca's chest rising and falling with heavy and panicked breaths, but her eyes were calm and staring.

Sherlock carefully followed her gaze to behind the burly man, where Jennifer's cot lay on the breakfast table, their little baby still sleeping soundly inside it.

"You tell me where is!" said the man in very broken English, raising his voice. "My boss wants very much to speak with him. He has been snooping in business that is not his."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at the back of the man's head before analyzing the situation. His eyes flickered over the scene. Until finally he saw it, draped over the side table just a few feet away. One of his own jackets, with something very useful tucked away inside the pocket.

He would have to pick his moment very carefully.

* * *

><p>"You tell me!" shouted the man again, wielding the knife in his hand threateningly.<p>

Rebecca give a nervous gulp before speaking. "I-I don't know…" she murmured.

"You tell me now!" shouted the man again, grasping Rebecca's face roughly in his hand, the knife now very close to her.

Suddenly there was a loud creak behind them and the man pulled away from her spinning around. He looked at the door, still slightly ajar then to the side table. The man looked angry but almost un-fussed when he turned back to Rebecca. He made to grab her face again but before he could do so Rebecca had kicked up her high-heeled foot which collided squarely between the legs of the man.

He doubled over as Rebecca struggled in her chair.

"Stupid bitch!" cried the man grimacing, as Rebecca tried desperately to loosen her bonds, but it was no good, she couldn't move.

Within moments he was on his feet again, but this time even angrier than before.

He grabbed Rebecca's hair in his hand and tugged it roughly, her whole head was now pulled back leaving her long slender neck on show. He pressed the blade into her throat as she whimpered.

"Tell me where is Holmes…" said the man in a dangerous voice, coming so close that Rebecca could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

She said nothing, merely letting out several desperate breaths.

"You wont say?" said the man, suddenly letting her go and backing away. Rebecca gulped in lungful's of air in relief at being released before her eyes widened in alarm.

The man was slowly moving over to where Jennifer lay sleeping in her cot. "Perhaps this will make you speak-" he said, staring back at her with malice.

Rebecca made to shout, made to scream but before she could even make a sound the living room door swung wide open. And standing there was the tall and dark form of Sherlock Holmes pointing a gun at arms length.

Two loud shots reverberated across the room and the man fell to his knees, slumping upon the floor.

Rebecca was sure she heard what was almost a gurgling laugh come from Jennifer's cot but she could only stare wildly between Sherlock and the fallen man.

After a few moments Sherlock flung the weapon down onto the sofa and moved lightly over to Rebecca, removing her bonds and cupping her cheek gently.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in a low voice as she stared at him. She could barely speak so just nodded silently, as he lifted her to her feet.

Rebecca moved past him, stepping over the fallen man and picking Jennifer out of her cot, clutching the baby tightly to her still rising and falling chest.

"I-Is he-" she made to say, staring down at the floor.

"Dead?" murmured Sherlock giving the burly man a kick. "No, merely tranquilised."

He stared over at the gun momentarily before he bent down to pick up the man's knife.

"They're specialised darts. Illegal over here in fact. Can take down a stampeding rhino, so will definitely give our friend here a loss of all major motor skills for a least eighteen months…if he ever recovers at all," Sherlock spoke with such poison in his voice that Rebecca stared at him for a long while before finally speaking.

"I'm going to feed Jennifer," she said quietly, still staring curiously at the dark-haired detective as she still open the kitchen doors. "We'll be in here. You can deal with that in any way you want. No questioned asked."

Sherlock's eyes locked onto hers and he couldn't help but smirk as she slid the doors closed behind her.

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><p>Thirty minutes later Sherlock was back. He pushed open the living room door to see Jennifer snoozing on the couch in her cot. Sherlock paused, removing the fluffy pink bear that still lay in his pocket and placed it gently beside his daughter.<p>

He stood and watched her for a moment before he heard Rebecca's footsteps behind him. He turned around but before he could even do or say anything Rebecca had moved close to him and pressed her lips to his.

There was a burning passion there and it was a swift moment before Sherlock began to kiss her back.

His hands moved to her waist as she began to slip the heavy coat from his shoulders. Sherlock moved things along, removing it and flinging it down upon an armchair as Rebecca grasped his free hand in hers.

She pulled him through the kitchen, her lips still tugging on his, and through to the bedroom, where she shut the door behind them with a snap.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to Jinx 456, OptimisticLivvy, mstef & Gwilwillith for reviewing!**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review to let me know if I should continue.**

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><p>The next morning Mrs Hudson slowly made her way up the stairs towards Sherlock and Rebecca's flat.<p>

She let out a gentle 'cooey' before pushing the door open. The old lady couldn't help but smile at the sight that met her eyes.

There was Sherlock dressed in all black, sitting silently in his armchair reading a book. Lying across his chest, sleeping upon his bony shoulder was baby Jennifer.

The dark-haired detective glanced up as Mrs Hudson entered the room.

"Aww, Sherlock" said the landlady her eyes almost brimming with tears. "Don't the pair of you look precious together."

Sherlock slowly placed down his book onto the arm of his chair as Mrs Hudson moved further into the room.

"Is Rebecca around?" asked the old lady biting her lip. "Or are the two of you still-..."

"Mrs Hudson!" came the voice of Rebecca as she appeared suddenly around the kitchen door. Her high heels were at least two inches higher than they had been of late and her hair was coiffed up elegantly. Sherlock's eyes locked onto her immediately as she entered the room.

"Oh Rebecca," said Mrs Hudson, as Rebecca moved forwards and kissed her cheek. "I'm so glad to see you again. You look well."

"Thank you," said Rebecca with a smile. "So do you. How was your trip?"

"Yes lovely, mice to be back though," said the landlady perching on the arm of the sofa. "Well, little Jenny's really settling in well isn't she?"

Mrs Hudson glanced towards Sherlock and smiled motheringly.

"You know that if you ever need me to babysit-..."

"How about today?" said Sherlock suddenly. He stared up at Mrs Hudson, his face unreadable.

Their landlady's eyes widened in surprise for a small moment.

"Sherlock-" muttered Rebecca with a frown but Mrs Hudson cut across her.

"I'd love to!" cried the old lady with a slight squeal of delight.

A smirk appeared on Sherlock's face as Rebecca looked up in surprise.

"Mrs Hudson, you don't have to-" she began but Mrs Hudson grasped her arm gently.

"No, it would be a pleasure, dear," she said moving over to where Sherlock sat. "I just love little babies. Especially one as bonny as this one."

Mrs Hudson leaned over and tickled Jennifer's cheek with her finger. The baby stirred slightly and let out a tiny yawn.

Rebecca smiled and her eyes met with Sherlock's. She blushed and tore her eyes away, strutting over to the mirror over the fireplace and checking her practically perfect appearance.

"We're going to have a lovely time, aren't we Jenny?" cooed Mrs Hudson, as Jennifer stretched out on Sherlock's shoulder. "And your Mum and Dad can have a bit of a break."

"Ah yes," muttered Sherlock in a deep voice. "There are always cases to crack. "

Rebecca smirked at him, rolling her eyes.

"Yes," said Mrs Hudson, still addressing baby Jennifer. "Sherlock may be your Daddy but he's still a very important Consulting Detective."

Suddenly, and without any sort of warning Jennifer threw up on Sherlock's shoulder. His slick black suit now covered with white baby spew.

He instantly grimaced as Rebecca pressed a hand to her mouth, laughing.

"I don't think the fact that her Daddy's a Consulting Detective impresses her very much Mrs Hudson," laughed Rebecca as Sherlock handed their baby over to her.

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><p>Thirty minutes later Sherlock and Rebecca stepped out onto the blustery pavement.<p>

Sherlock had changed his shirt and jacket and now had his coat thrown haphazardly over the top. Rebecca too was wrapped up in a chic raincoat. With her towering black heels she was almost as tall as Sherlock.

They were indeed a sight together. Both slick and stylish. It was hard for people not to glance at them as they passed.

"So," murmured Rebecca, pulling up her collar against the wind. "Where are we off to?"

She entwined her hands with Sherlock's.

"Barts," muttered Sherlock in a deep voice, his fingers tightening around hers.

Rebecca frowned, making to pull her hand away but Sherlock's grip was playfully strong.

"Barts?" she said incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Always," smirked Sherlock. "Besides, I have Lestrade's case on my hands and a stiff I need Molly to report back to me on."

"You mean the one you introduced our daughter to yesterday?" said Rebecca in cool voice.

Sherlock glanced at her, her eyes narrowed teasingly in his direction.

"Ah, you're still angry with me then?" uttered Sherlock glancing across the street.

"Of course I am Sherlock. What? Did you think that one night together and I'd forget how much of an idiot you'd been?" she said jabbing him in his side, harder than she meant to, with her perfectly polished fingernail.

Sherlock frowned but still their hands remained clasped between them.

"An idiot that not only takes his baby to a crime scene but also enrages criminals so much, that they end up threatening his partner," said Rebecca pointedly. She looked up at him with a smirk waiting for a response.

Sherlock gazed over at her, his eyes searching her face. A glint appeared in his eye.

"So you're my partner then are you?" uttered Sherlock in a teasing voice.

"Perhaps," said Rebecca, blinking once then turning away from the dark-haired detective.

Sherlock's smirk deepened as he continued to stare at her.

She tutted loudly as they reached the main road. "Well you'd better hail a taxi. I'm not walking all way to Barts in these things."

She lifted her heel as Sherlock raised his arm, causing a black can to pull up beside them.

"They cost more than you'd dare to think."

Sherlock glanced down at them as he held open the door for Rebecca to step inside.

"And how long will you be paying for those?" said Sherlock raising an eyebrow.

Rebecca smiled sweetly before plucking a credit card from her pocket and flashing it towards him. "Oh I won't be paying for them," she said narrowing her eyes. "You will."

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><p>Five minutes later Sherlock and Rebecca were sat in the back of their taxi, zipping along towards St Bartholomew's Hospital.<p>

They sat close, Rebecca staring out of the window as Sherlock's fingers danced across his phone.

"Who are you texting?" asked Rebecca, without even looking at him.

"Lestrade," uttered Sherlock in a bored tone, his eyes never leaving his screen. "I'm sure he was feeling a little worse for wear this morning so I thought that I should send him a few texts to ensure he's good and awake by now.

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "How many is a few?"

"Thirty-six," said Sherlock instantly. "I made sure his phone was on the loudest possible setting when I left him yesterday evening."

"How nice of you," murmured Rebecca sarcastically, leaning her head against his shoulder.

After a few long minutes Rebecca finally spoke again. "Have you heard from Irene lately?" she said in a clear voice, her head still resting upon him.

Sherlock tensed. It was a long moment before he spoke. "Irene? No."

Rebecca merely let out a gentle "Hmmmm." The sound was soft and almost sounded uncaring but Sherlock knew better.

He stared down at the young lawyer. Waiting for her to say something else but it never came.

A few minutes later they had reached their destination, Sherlock paying the driver and hopping out of the cab. Rebecca following in his wake.

"I need to see Molly first," said Sherlock as they walked briskly into Barts and down the lengthy corridors that the detective knew so well. "I need to find out if there is a connection between the dead man yesterday and the other two cases."

"And if there is a connection, I'm assume we have a serial killer on the loose?" asked Rebecca frowning.

A wrinkled smile appeared on Sherlock's face. "Oh no Miss Francis," he said staring at her. "I'm afraid this is something different."

"Something worse I'm presuming," said Rebecca provokingly. "Judging by the look of sheer happiness on your face."

She nudged him with her hip causing Sherlock's grin to widen.

They stopped outside the morgue where they could see Molly working behind a large glass window.

Rebecca wrinkled her nose as she saw that her friend was busy cutting open the stomach of a large, balding  
>cadaver on the slab before her.<p>

She remembered how only a few weeks before, she had been giving birth in these very rooms on a table much like that one. She gave a shudder as Molly glanced up and spotted the pair.

The mousy mortician gave a large smile and waved enthusiastically in their direction. In a flash she had whipped on her gloves and slipped out of the room.

"Hi!" she said, shutting the door gently behind her. "It's so nice to see you both...together."

"Ah, yes. We kissed and made up, so to speak," uttered Sherlock in a low voice as he smiled knowingly.

Rebecca fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Oh I'm so glad," squeaked Molly giving Rebecca's arm a squeeze as she beamed up at Sherlock.

The detective wasn't really paying attention, his eyes flitting around the corridor.

"The body I called you about yesterday," he uttered in a low voice, his eyes finally landing on Molly. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

A frown line appeared between Molly's eyes. "Um, Oh yes. Steven Partridge wasn't it?"

Sherlock stopped dead, his eyes frozen on the young mortician's.

"His injuries were almost exactly the same as the other two," she said nodding. "You

"What did you say?" said Sherlock sharply, taking a step towards her. Molly gaped.

"U-Uh, I just said that his injuries were-"

"No, before that. What did you call him?" said Sherlock grasping Molly by the shoulders, as Rebecca looked on confused.

"U-Um, Steven Partridge…" said the mousy haired woman, with a slightly scared smile.

In an instant, Sherlock's face had lit up. "Oh!" he cried, clapping his hands together.

"What?" said the two women before him in unison, but Sherlock was too elated to answer.

"Oh, Molly I could kiss you!" he said spinning around on the spot.

Molly gave the slightest of squeals. "Ok!" she uttered, but Sherlock was already off, running down the long corridor.

"What? Sherlock! Wait, where are you going? I don't understand," said Rebecca, calling after him.

He pulled open the door that led to the next corridor before swinging around and giving Rebecca a wide smile. "Partridge!" he cried before disappearing.

Rebecca gave a long sigh, before turning to Molly. "Well, there goes my day off," she murmured before tottering along after the dark-haired detective.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


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